HALFWAY GONE

[AALIYAH MARGARET AUSTERLITZ]

There was something in the air. It was not the smell of the perfectly groomed flowers or the freshly mowed grass. No, this was love. This was the very thing that most people feared, for its ability to make someone go crazy. Aaliyah was already crazy, so in all actuality, it simply didn't matter. She had gone to her morning classes: all honors latin, english, and trigonometry. She was...smart? Yes, she was. She was two years ahead in math as well as one year ahead in latin and english. In all honesty, Aaliyah Austerlitz had not done one piece of homework all year, yet she had gotten 100s on every test she had taken since school began. Never once had she even opened the brand new textbooks sitting in her dorm room at the moment. She had always loved the smell of them though, the new paper smell and the binding waiting to be broken. During actual classes, she never payed attention, she day dreamed. Her teachers were amazed, some of them thought she was cheating, but with further look at her work, they knew that was not possible. At the moment though, she had lunch. She never ate lunch though. It was such a pointless meal. For breakfast she had sugary cereal, and for dinner, she had some type of pasta or pizza and then during the day, she would sporadically eat all types of food, like cookies, chips, etc.

So she lay in a garden with flowers all around her, the perfume of roses, orchids, and lilacs flooding her senses. The sprung, fresh, green grass felt soft beneath her body. Her blonde hair spilled out behind her head against the grass and her delicate hands rested on her taut stomach covered in her white collared shirt that was standard of the academy uniform. Her green eyes gazed longingly at the sun. The sun blinded most people, but not her. She never needed to wear sun glasses. She tilted her head to get a better look and then birds flew over her. The girl smiled at them lovingly, wishing she could fly. Birds were the only creatures she had ever felt connected to, probably because they would always leave her no matter what. However, there was one bird that never left her family's garden at their estate in Germany. That bird never left her, always awaiting her return. She could talk for hours to the bird, and it would just listen but never reply; exactly what she liked. One day, the bird would leave her though. Home. Home. What was home? A relative term. She was confident that she would never really have a home. Sure, an estate, a dorm room, but never a home.

Her favorite place to be, regardless of the country she was in, was a garden. There was something so serene and relaxing about it. Through out her life, she had spent countless hours staring at the sun and falling asleep in the garden. Eventually someone would always find her, but there were always those few blissful hours she had to herself. The birds would chirp, and everything would be nice. Sometimes she would invent stores in which she was a princess and her prince would come out of the forest on horseback. She was practically a princess in real life though, even though she didn't think about herself that way. There was nothing to fantasize about now though, it was just her, the sun, and her best friends, the birds. There were no words to describe her surroundings, the old stone paths led to fields and gardens. In a distant she could see the beautiful ivy covered buildings. The girls in their shortened skirts gossiping while sitting on the bright grass, a few boys in uniform tossing around a football. The sun was far more entertaining than her classmates.

There was pureness and love all around her. It was probably one of the last warm days of the fall and most likely was her last chance to enjoy these flowers and the garden. The only thoughts flooding her mind were of Ollie. His blue eyes, his messy brown hair, the way his strong arms felt wrapped around her waist, and especially the way his lips felt against hers. When she thought about him, she did not feel like herself and she loved it. This was bad though, this was not good. While consciously, she was in utter bliss; subconsciously, there were red flags signaling danger. He could break her, and if he did, that would be the end. Love, love, love. The four letter word that had the capacity to define a person, to make them go insane from one corner of their mind to the other. She swore that would not happen to her though. She liked to believe that he wouldn't hurt her.


Open
sorry this is so bad.
823 words.

[ALESSIO MONTAGUE]

Milan was quiet, a city that was both beautiful and full of history to match it's natural elegance. The people included in the confines were similarly entrancing, the way they walked so much different then anything else Alessio had ever seen. He'd been there since he was born, and probably fit the mold himself, but as of late he'd found himself merely watching them move about in their daily activities, and a story had formed through his tender, delicate mind. It wasn't anything particularly special, although various scenarios that he could include would make it into something extraordinary. All in all, he wasn't sure he quite wanted to do that, what with the variety of things that had been piled up around him. Not to mention, on top of everything there was that fine layer of dust that had settled, including the marriage between the lesbian Vanderbilt girl and the headmaster's son, among a couple of other things that left him absolutely perplexed. That and the horrible about of Levitons suddenly running around campus, flaunting their shit like it was cool to be one of what, seventeen? Christ almighty. He knew he'd be donating a condom to that fund when christmas came around, and god knows they weren't all hers. It was physically impossible, especially considering the fact that a lot of them were born in the same year... her husband and her would have to have unprotected sex repeatedly, every day for years on end. And she'd have to be way more fertile then was typical. Like the Octo-mom but worse, and if any of her kids were half as endowed in that department, he'd have to be sure never to touch one of them. Not that he would anyway. Alessio hated everyone equally, so the boundary between new money and old money didn't particularly bother him, or at least, until it was pushed against his face and he was forced to realize that the girl under him would fizzle out of the spotlight in a couple of years and he'd still be there. It was with these thoughts in mind that he finally made his decision to get out of the house, taking some initiative for what was doubtlessly the first time in a very, very long time. Brushing a hand through his hair, he tucked a pack of cigarettes into his pants pocket along with his trusty gold lighter, the notebook secured firmly in the palm of his opposite hand, and set off for the gardens. It wasn't anything in particular that drove him there, just the fact that most of the time it was empty and he sort of liked being outdoors – until those annoying, nit-witted cheerleaders decided it would be a good idea to practice there. That was just... gross. He didn't want to see them tossing their fucking pompoms like they were in america.

He got to the perimeter of the fenced in shrubbery when he finally realized that he wasn't alone. There was a familiar blonde head, one of those which stood out in it's carefully unkept nature, filled undoubtedly with a variety of spacy, scarily accurate thoughts that appeared to be the way she processed the world. He sighed, sticking a cigarette into the corner of his mouth before taking a drag, deciding to go inside anyway and maybe exchange a few comfortable words with her. Since he was already on excellent conditions with her mother and a friendly-ish level with her sister, he figured he might as well smooth over the rest of the ice that had been disturbed and cracked. That wasn't to say that if she stirred up shit again later, he wouldn't rebuke. Just for now things would be slightly less than horrible.. maybe. He had kind of told her to drown and all, and then proceeded to mock her as she stated how she believed it would be beautiful. Maybe that was the wrong approach, but color him intrigued regardless. “Hey, bambola. Come Va?” he actually preferred his native Italian to English, although you'd never guess with the way he simply let the common language slip from between his lips. Now was different, though. Now was an attempt to keep her satisfied so she wouldn't run away and actually drown herself, in some sick way he thought maybe he could prevent that, and he didn't necessarily care so much as hate to see the face of such a pretty person get wiped off of the planet to rot in the ground. Sitting down next to her, folding his long legs so he was sitting indian style, he arched an eyebrow and looked down into his lap. “Listen... this isn't something I do very often... but I want to apologize. For being so inconsiderate to you at the party.” he shrugged. Even if he had no actual bad feelings about it, it was just... the right thing to do. Not that he regularly indulged.

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[AALIYAH MARGARET AUSTERLITZ]

slumber fell over the young girl. she slept one hour every night and that was always enough. she had read somewhere that all brilliant people had trouble sleeping. it wasn't that she had trouble sleeping per say, she simply did not like it. it did not make sense to her to take eight or nine hours out of her day to dream if she could be spending staring at the moon from her window sill. she much preferred day dreaming to dreaming. she drove her room mate crazy, but then again, she drove everyone crazy. not in a bad way, or at least she did not think so. she never spent enough time thinking about everyone else to actually wonder. most of the time she just listened and watched, her green eyes flickering at something interesting like a fire.

with green eyes closed, she was vulnerable. this was a new advancement in aaliyah, she was no longer extremely afraid to come off human, only when she was alone though or with ollie. this was a new aaliyah, she did not like the sound of that though. what would happen to her if she let her defense mechanisms go? would she no longer be what everyone told her she was? alexithymia was what one psychologist her parents had sent her to had called it. it was a trait, not disorder in which a person could not feel or express their emotions. even though she was not aware, the second she was told she had it, feeling became a foreign idea. she was convinced that she would never be normal or feel again, and she sort of liked that. she liked not feeling the pressure to be human, as others would call it. it made it easy for her to move in and out of people's lives like a ghost. as long as she believed that she could not feel, she would not feel. that wasn't the way it was going though, a wall had been broken down, she was unguarded. she could allow herself to sleep for a little while.

fate had not intended for that though, for only a brief moment after her eyes had shut, she heard a deep voice in a foreign language. she understood enough of latin to understand what the male was saying. doll, she understood being called a doll. she always thought of herself as a doll, one that could be easily broken. with eyes still closed, golden eyelashes guarding her, she searched through her memories for that voice and found it. it was alessio montague. she could not remember when they had spoken, there had been a beach and the feeling of water gliding over her body. that was another thing about aaliyah, she often forgot about insignificant events even though if she wanted to, she could remember the entire event perfectly. she was so odd. and then when he mentioned a party, she remembered the blurred lights, tequila, a cigarette, smoke and a typical conversation about death. she opened her eyes and tilted her head backwards to see him at he fence. upside down, he looked odd, handsome, but odd. he was handsome, and he knew it. aaliyah sat up right and got a better look at him. she actually liked him compared to most people at the academy. hell, she didn't like most of her friends, they just interested her. but there was something she saw in alessio. he was similar to her in a way. he was always carrying around a notebook, always observing everyone in the same way that aaliyah was.

aaliyah failed to see what he had to gain from apologizing to her about being 'inconsiderate'. she could barely remember the conversation, much less remember enough to even think poorly of him. he wanted something, she just was not sure what that was. a normal person would have said thank you to him for apologizing, but in aaliyah's case why on earth would she say thank you? she dismissed him and laid back down on the grass. the sun hit her golden face but did not hurt her siren green eyes. just by his voice she could tell that he didn't actually feel bad about anything, he was just scared about something, about her? she dismissed all thoughts of him. "do you ever get tired alessio?" she asked him, not sure what she would be gaining from an answer from him. she simply wanted to know how similar he was to her.

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[ALESSIO MONTAGUE]

She was still doing that thing where she partially ignored what he was saying, making him sort of want to grab her by the shoulders and shake her until she realized that he'd said something and responding would be the proper thing to do in such a situation. People acted disgusted with him, they gave into his heedless flirtations, but no one flat out ignored him and that was what undoubtedly made him crazy with Aaliyah. She was that perfectly horrendous combination between attentive and ignorant and it made him frustrated beyond belief... but still somehow he wanted to talk to her and make sure things were cool between the Austerlitzes and the Montagues before something bad happened and he fucked up the delicate social balance that had lasted for a pretty long time, “No. Not enough.” he shrugged, comfortable on the grass. When he was little, he used to lay on the grass in his expansive back lawn and just sort of write, using the earth around him as inspiration enough for a setting and characters that had slipped inot his mind through the various books he read. Sometimes he'd doze, but rarely. He'd had to go so far as to take medication so he could sleep regularly, although that part of himself wasn't something he preferred to discuss. Self-medication was also a frequent practice of his, the ingestion of a pharmaceutical cocktail or a bottle of rum the only thing keeping him from dying from lack of sleep. Alessio had always been something of an insomniac, but it wasn't anything by his own choice. “You do,” he stated playfully, nudging her leg with his palm. That familial bond between her genetics and his made it almost impossible to fight the sense of camaraderie that automatically flowed through his veins, and not to mention she was obviously not ugly. Some part of him, when not thoroughly inebriated, was automatically less rough with her. She seemed sort of fragile, in a strange, unconquerable way.

Flopping backwards, he folded his hands on his stomach, the notebook resting between his palms and the taut muscles underneath of them. Yes, the slightly purple circles under his eyes attested to his lack of sleep and yet, somehow, he hardly worried about those. They were just sort of there. It wasn't a purposeful thing, either, his not being able to sleep. It'd started when he was little because his mind would race and he'd be unable to focus on drifting off into sleep, and as time progressed things had gotten more complicated and more was loaded on his plate; eventually that in itself had been able to keep him awake, but it was more then that. Unable to truly express himself and say what was on his mind until he was in his early teenage years, the little Alessio had vivid nightmares that left him unwilling and unable to go back to sleep after he'd woken up, so he took to sleeping during the day, if at all, and never very much at night. Then things had changed once more, when he got to high school. He'd just stopped sleeping all together, and it scared his family so much that they took him to the doctor, who in turn diagnosed him with insomnia and since then he'd been a walking headcase. He found that on a full night of sleep, he could only write so much and never, ever, was he productive with more than enough energy. It was strange but true. Medication was the only way he could sleep through the night, and he only ever did that to pass the time because high school or no, most people went to bed at around four. There Alessio was at those times, still goofing around because he couldn't manage to drift off. It had offended more than one of his female friends, you could say, because they always thought they were a bad lie when he went to go sit outside and watch the streets in the middle of the night. But it wasn't them, not that he ever thought to tell them so. It was just him.

“Or do you?” of course, he was coming to not expect an answer out of the blonde, her features more expressive then anything she said. Aaliyah seemed to take the world head on, facing everything as it hit her, and it was... different. A lot different then anyone else in the old money pool. “Anyone ever tell you that you stick out like a sore thumb?”

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[AALIYAH MARGARET AUSTERLITZ]

aaliyah was half in her own world, have in space. she could hear alessio's words, but couldn't fully interpret them. this was how it was when people spoke directly to her. if they were speaking at her, she could define every word until they perfectly paired with what the person was truly talking about and feeling, not the code words that they tended to speak in. she opened her eyes and turned her head to look at alessio, his face was so close to hers. a normal person would have felt something, claustrophobic, nervous, turned on, anything. but he was just alessio, his handsome face was ice to her. "i never used to get tired, but now i do." she told him, turning her attention back to the sun. she bore no signs of exhaustion. no purple circles haunted her green eyes and she looked as bright as ever, she practically glowed.

she noticed he had brought his notebook with him, of course he had. he never went anywhere without it. she was tempted to take it and read it, but that would be a violation of privacy, she knew at least that. she had been taught manners by nannies and then her mother. she frustrated her mother to no end. she never came to the family parties or dinners. but her mother had succeeded in teaching her some manners. like to never interrupt other people or pry. those were the only two that stuck out in her head. she never pried per say, she simply...guessed. "what do you write about?" she returned her attention to him and his notebook. he held it over his chest like it was his heart. she wished she had a passion like him. something that she could do while she avoided sleep. the daydreaming was nice, but she was beginning to desire real dreams. nothing was enough anymore. ollie had been right, she was selfish. she asked him, to curious for her own good. she was sure that he wouldn't answer her, why should he? it was an extremely private question, of course aaliyah didn't understand that though.

she wanted to know what he wrote about. she didn't know why she was so curious though. she supposed she liked alessio. that must have been it. while she had come to the understanding a long while ago that he found her...more than a little annoying, she still liked him. it wasn't that she felt the spark that she felt with ollie, she simply liked laying next to him. he was oddly comforting, evven though the girl hardly knew what comfort knew. she was feeling all these new things and it was surprising her. she ran her hand through the grass, feeling the nature beneath her. "i close my eyes, and i see purple." that's why she truly never slept, she did not like the purple. the purple had the capacity to scare her. it was the only thing that frightened her. so for one hour every night, she would close her eyes and let the purple devour her. and now, she was getting tired. the purple was beginning to fade into violet, and soon it would no longer be. "and i hide from it. the sun and the moon help me hide, but they're not anymore." she would have conversations with the sun and the moon in her head sometimes when she felt the absence of the bird. she felt stinging in her green eyes, what some would call tears. but they weren't tears. they were the build up. a glassy cover over her siren green eyes.

aaliyah knew that she was different. she never aknowledged it though. everywhere she went, she could feel the stares of others. she never understood it though. some would say that it was because she was pretty, but she never looked in mirrors. she hated mirrors, she never wanted to see her reflection. she didn't want to see herself trapped in glass. it was like having a twin that couldn't be unleashed. a part of you staring back at you, but you can't do anything. so aaliyah didn't look in mirrors and she didn't take pictures. because pictures capture moments, and she figured moments weren't meant to be captured. others would say that they stared because she stared. that was probably true, she was always observing people. she figured that she would make a good writer, but she didn't know what she would write about.